


Runnin' Down Her Hand

by usermechanics



Category: Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Ice Play, Popsicles, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24986122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usermechanics/pseuds/usermechanics
Summary: In the midst of a heat wave, Dia buys Ruby and Hanamaru some popsicles, but not before getting sidetracked by the person running the stand.
Relationships: Kurosawa Dia/Ohara Mari
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Runnin' Down Her Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Repost from some smut exhibition, but whatever. I've been dissociating with them and summer is the perfect time to post stuff like this.

“And the heat wave continues throughout Uchiura, for the sixth day in a row.”

That was news that Dia didn’t want to hear. It was bad enough that she had to hear about how this was the worst heat wave in generations, and she thought that she was prepared for it with the wonder of air conditioning. Even after checking to make sure that it worked a few days in advance, it stung her to realize that even with the air conditioning running, it still felt miserable inside.

Dia held her wrist, wondering how much she had used it in the past week to just fan herself. Even with the air conditioning running at its highest settings, her wrist still managed to feel cramped by all the exertion she was putting into fanning herself. It was like nothing was working at all.

“Onee-chan!” Ruby whined, dressed as lightly and loosely as she felt comfortable wearing. “It’s so hot!”

“I’m not sure how much more heat I can take, zura!”

Dia had forgotten that Ruby let Hanamaru stay at their place until the heat wave ended; it made perfect sense considering how she would have had to brace the relentless heat had she not been allowed in, but it was still somewhat annoying having two people’s complaints to worry about. She was fine dealing with Ruby--it was a sisterly duty she had come to love--and Hanamaru was a close friend of Ruby enough so that she’d consider herself close to Maru too, but whenever they were near Dia, they sounded like they were suffering.

“Is there anything in the freezer?”

Her standard answer to their complaints was immediately fired back with negative answers.

“We don’t have anything!”

“Maru had the last of the ice cream yesterday! I wanted it to last but it was so good, zura!”

Dia furrowed her brow slightly. She couldn’t just leave her sister and her best friend in a state like this, without anything other than their own sweat cooling them off. They looked despaired, as if neither was able to do anything without having a drink of something. Even if it was slightly colder than the house, which wasn’t that high a bar, they’d allow it.

“Are there any cold drinks left in the--”

“We finished those off! There’s nothing cool left in the house!”

Dia sighed. This had just become an ordeal. She didn’t want to leave the house--she felt like opening the door would have been enough to burn, and as she stared at outside at the thermometer, the liquid right next to the number 40 was proof that she shouldn’t have bothered.

But at the same time, it would have been a disservice. This was for her younger sister and a guest, people whom she knew and loved, and to withhold from anything for her own personal sake seemed unfair and childish. As much as she didn’t want to walk outside and face the heat, there was no way that she’d let Ruby or Hanamaru outside. That, she felt, was cruelty. 

“I’ll get you two some cold glasses of water, and then I’ll see what I can do about getting you something cold.”

Ruby and Hanamaru both lit up, as if their prayers were answered.

“Onee-chan, thank you so much!”

“We really appreciate you going out there for us, zura…”

With those kind platitudes, Dia turned towards the kitchen, so that she could make their cold drinks. Hanamaru stopped her.

“We can fix up our drinks if you go and get us something cold.”

Dia smiled. With that out of the way, she was ready to get her cold fixings. But before she did, she wanted to make sure of something.

“Ruby-san, Hanamaru-san: what would you like?”

Both of them gave the non-answer of  _ whatever _ . That meant she was just going to get whatever she found for them, and maybe some matcha ice cream for herself. She just hoped that Ruby and Hanamaru didn’t dig into her own stash of ice cream once she bought it.

* * *

Outside was just as brutal as she imagined it to be. Even after getting her umbrella for the sake of shade, it didn’t take more than a minute for sweat to start forming on her brow. As she expected, too, nobody was outside; why would anyone want to be outside on a day like today? As she walked, she felt her sandals trying to melt into the sidewalk below her, forcing her to take a slightly faster pace than what she was used to; anything to get out of the heat, she would personally allow.

_ What should I get Ruby and Hanamaru-san? _ She thought aloud. She was free to think aloud with the scorching heat having left her the only person insane enough to walk outside. Even then, she was able to turn around and see her house by the time that she felt her sundress starting to stick to her from the heat. It was only the kind of time that she’d give to Ruby; not even for her childhood friends would she consider walking in this heat.

As much as she wanted to say that, she did find some other people outside. Two of them, and two people she actually recognized from high school. She rubbed her eyes, making sure that she wasn’t hallucinating about them, but no; they were still there after she rubbed her eyes: Chika and You were actually outside, wearing loose clothing and holding orange popsicles in their hands. As much as she didn’t want to divert her course from whatever supermarket she could find first, maybe it’d be closer and worth it to ask them.

And, in a move of foolishness, Dia ran. Well, she walked as fast as she could with her sandals to a crosswalk. As soon as the light turned and Dia was allowed to walk, she did, keeping her quasi-run to clear the gap. The sounds of sandals slapping her feet caught Chika’s attention, who immediately motioned to You to stop walking and turn around.

“Hi, Dia-san!” Chika gave her typical sunny greeting. As much as it fit the sky, cloudless and only marked by blue and the sun, it felt impossible that Chika was actually giving a genuine happy greeting like that. You joined in, and she was just as chipper as Chika, if not more so. It felt almost baffling.

“Hi, Chika-san, You-san.” Dia began, panting slightly from her speed walking. If it were any cooler she would have definitely seen Kanan for some exercise tips. “Where did you get those?” She asked, pointing at the popsicles in their hands.

“These?” You asked, pointing at her popsicle.

“We got them from Mari-chan’s popsicle stand!” Chika blurted.

“Mari-san’s?” Dia almost froze, feeling what she bet was a cold sweat running down her spine. It could have been a regular sweat, given how hot it was, but hearing Mari’s name definitely caused her heart to skip a beat.

“Mhm!” Chika responded, her chipper expression unwavering. “Mari-chan’s selling popsicles about a block away. You should definitely go and see her! She’ll be so happy to see you!”

There really was no escaping her, was there? And as chaotic as the events were probably to be, she didn’t mind catching up with an old friend, as long as the popsicles meant for Ruby and Hanamaru didn’t melt in her hands.

“And she has everything! Chika-chan and I got the mikan pops, but she definitely had things like frozen matcha pudding!”

It was as if Mari inhabited You for a few seconds when she said that there was frozen matcha pudding. She wanted to disregard everything when she heard that. As if she was going to miss out on frozen matcha pudding on a day like today. Hell, she’d probably fill her freezer with it had she the chance to do so. It was hard keeping her dignity intact in front of Chika and You as that was mentioned.

“Where’s her popsicle stand?”

You pointed in a direction, and Dia walked that way. Not only was there a popsicle stand closer to home than a supermarket or 7/11, but the stand also sold frozen matcha pudding. She was like a moth to a light, heading over towards Mari’s popsicle stand without a care in the world. Who cared about anything else? Why care about anything else in this heat? It didn’t even take much longer for her to be standing right in front of that popsicle stand, waiting for its proprietor to pay slight attention to her.

The popsicle stand was undoubtedly Mari. Instead of something small like a cart with an umbrella, like she would have done, Mari seemed to have something which looked less like it would sell ice cream and more sell hamburgers in the parking lot of an idol show. If it had wheels, Dia would have called it a food truck, but it couldn’t have been. It was a legitimate stand, with a metal frame, a door on the right side, and all the freezers needed for ice cream in the back, perpendicular to a sky-blue wall on Dia’s left, with a list of different menu items painted on in both romaji and hiragana. Standing in the middle, Mari, underneath the roof and in some shade, still distracted about something menial.

As long as Mari was distracted, though, Dia did take in Mari’s choice in clothes, an absolute contrast to the loose, but elegant sundress she was wearing. Mari cared much less for loose clothes and more for skin exposure, wearing a light purple tank top, halted partway down her back, and a pair of daisy dukes which looked a size too small on her. It had certainly been awhile, but Dia forgot during that time that she, for a fraction of high school, was unwittingly in some rather sexy company between Mari and Kanan. She was just a bit less aware that Mari looked good as well.

Mari turned towards Dia, her tank top stretched slightly from her chest, exposing most of her belly, and with a rather low cut. Even though they had known each other for years, Dia felt as if it was difficult to pay attention to her dazzling eyes, widened from the sight of who wanted to order from her.

“Dia!  _ Hi!” _ As natural, Mari included a bit of English into her introduction. “I haven’t seen you in  _ forever _ !”

“Oh, Mari-san. Nice to see you again,” Dia responded. “Where did you get this?”

“My papa wanted me to do some business work during summer break! I just got back from Italy and he wanted me to run some sort of small business so I know how it is in the real world.” Dia was surprised; there was a legitimate and even professional reason for her to be doing this.

“So this is legitimate?”

“ _ Of course! _ ” Mari yelled, fake hurt in her voice. “I wanted to do something that people would  _ love _ in the summer! I also love just how many kids I get to sell too! They’re so fun to talk to!”

The more Mari talked about this seriously, the more Dia felt confused. Italy seriously taught her a lot if she really wasn’t going to be throwing perverted comments and “it’s joke”s everywhere. It was different, but a different that Dia allowed. She felt much more down to Earth, almost as if she were talking to Kanan.

That was, until Mari pulled a popsicle from a freezer and opened it for herself. “ _ My favorite! _ ” Mari cooed at it, a bright yellow popsicle. Definitely lemon if she was cheering about it.

“Mari-san,” Dia interrupted her idolization of her snack, “isn’t that something you should be selling your customers?”

“I’ll buy this one myself, it’s on me,” Mari responded, her lips curling up into a smirk. Pulling the wrapper away and tossing it in the trash, Mari grabbed the popsicle stick and brought her treat to her mouth, her tongue swirling around the yellow treat. All the while, she busily looked at Dia, her eyes darkened slightly. Dia furrowed her brow.

“Mari-san, what are you doing?”

“Doesn’t a popsicle stand worker need something to cool themselves down when they’re working out in this heat?”

As much as Mari made sense, it felt even worse knowing that she had the means to justify herself licking a popsicle in a salacious manner in front of her. This was a much more dangerous Mari, one who didn’t need her jokes to be a flirt. As much as Mari was talking about cooling herself down, her tongue work was definitely not standard popsicle-eating protocol. She licked all around, fluttering her tongue like she was speaking some sort of Italian against it, and she was also definitely unafraid of licking from its base to its tip. Even Dia knew what she was doing, and she knew from a young age that she wasn’t even interested in men whatsoever.

No, it wasn’t the licking that made Dia feel more heated, but its aftermath: the droplets of lemon-flavored saliva that didn’t necessarily make it down her throat, but down her chin instead. She watched as each of them dribbled off her chin, either staining her tank top or, for a lucky few, landed in her cleavage window. She wasn’t jealous of Mari for having a popsicle as much as she was jealous of slightly-melted popsicle falling into her chest.

That, of course, was something that Mari took advantage of. “You like what you see, Dia?”

As if she was going to get an answer from her. It was a catch-22, and Mari knew just how horrible of a liar she was. However, she knew that if she was going to answer it she was going to scratch her beauty mark until it bled. And yet, her silence was still an answer, one that Mari smirked at. She didn’t even need to ask that question to know. Mari was just as much a tease as she was a professional; she was definitely a professional tease.

Then, Mari started sucking on her popsicle. If Dia had a dick she knew that Mari would just thrust it into her mouth as if she wanted to bring the point across of how shameless she was, but instead, she just kept suckling. It was much more standard, and it gave Dia a chance to calm down about whatever was going on in Mari’s head. It was definitely a welcome moment of reprieve for her, and even her gaze seemed to give thanks to her for not being completely overkill with how teasing she was.

That was until she pulled her popsicle out, the tip of which fell from between Mari’s lips and landed in her cleavage. Dia was unimpressed with the stunt; she should have seen it coming from the start. It might have been difficult, but only Mari would plan something out like that for the sake of teasing a good friend like this. Dia could only wish for the moment where Mari came out from behind the stand and gave her one of her “jokes” so that she could reciprocate. All she could do was stare at the lucky piece of lemon-flavored ice that seemed so comfortable in Mari’s chest.

“You want a taste?”

Dia was brought back to reality by Mari, teasingly grinning with her popsicle pointed at her face. It was bad enough a question for her to be asking, considering that it was a total indirect kiss--there was no place where Mari didn’t lick it. Even then, she preferred it directly, considering how Mari’s lips seemed to glimmer in the harsh sunlight. It seemed irresistible, and Mari seemed to capitalize on this quite a bit by leaning forward, pressing her chest into the stand and letting that bit of lemon-flavored ice sink ever-deeper into her cleavage.

She was definitely going to be tasting something lemon-flavored; she just didn’t know which lemon to taste. At the end, she took the popsicle from Mari’s hand, watching as she kept her facial expression almost the same, with that same kind of glee. However, instead of taking a taste of it, Dia stepped forward, her parasol now tapping against the stand right next to Mari’s shoulder.

“So, Mari-san,” Dia questioned, her voice growing a bit harsher, “is there any reason why you wanted to eat this popsicle in front of me and not on your break?”

That was enough of a question for Mari to stand upright, wincing slightly as she felt the ice slowly going down her chest. “ _ No, ma’am! _ ”

Dia’s eyebrows furrowed. That was a lie at her own level of telling lies. She knew this because Mari had to tack on something else: an excuse.

“I was just hot all day and I needed a popsicle--”

“In doing so, you have left some of us hot and bothered!” Even in a sundress, Dia felt like she could be intimidating, and considering how Mari was walking backwards in her own stand, where she didn’t even need to, considering the counter between them, Dia felt justified saying that. “Was that your intention?”

After a few seconds of what seemed like trepidation from Mari’s end, another coy smirk found its way onto her face. “ _ Of course _ it was!”

What an excuse that was. As she said that, Mari stretched, raising her arms as high as she could. Dia took note, not to stretch as she was stretching, but of how her chest seemed to bounce a bit more than usual.  _ Of course _ it was her plan all along to be a tease.  _ Of course _ she wasn’t wearing a bra.  _ Of course _ she’d stretch in front of her knowing that her shirt almost seemed like it was going to show stress tears.  _ Of course _ Mari would do that. And  _ of course _ did Dia want to shove her face into Mari’s chest; she wanted to do something of the sort to teach her a lesson in professionalism. As if she were personally professional herself, wanting to teach her this kind of lesson, but it definitely was better than any alternative.

As Mari ceased her stretch, she walked--rather, sashayed--towards the counter again, almost as if to show Dia that there was much more to her figure than her chest--something Dia didn’t need to be reminded about. “Come on, Dia, aren’t you  _ hot _ standing in the sun like that?”

As much as Dia wanted to point at her parasol, giving her shade, she knew exactly what Mari meant when she asked a question like that. It was an excuse for her to step into the ring and walk the walk on the various lewd activities that filled her mind, some of which made her forget that Ruby and Hanamaru were the reasons why she even wanted ice cream in the first place. She wanted some ice cream, too, and she also wanted a lemon drop, particularly the one across the counter flirting with her. Next thing she knew, had she not taken that popsicle, Mari’d probably stuff it in her chest, daring Dia to take it.

“The entrance is  _ right here _ !” Mari exclaimed, pointing at the door. Dia walked around towards it and entered, walking straight towards Mari until not only was she in tow, but they were against the wall behind her, with Dia pressing her against the wall by her shoulder. She had discarded her parasol on the way, not needing it. All she needed was a hand for leverage against Mari and a hand to hold her popsicle.

“Well, Mari-san,” Dia huffed, “is there anything you’d like to say for yourself?” 

“Looks like you haven’t changed, Dia!”

It was an instant reply which caught Dia off guard for two seconds, but once she ceased her recoil she pressed harder, her brows more furrowed. “Neither have you, Mari-san,” she remarked, running the popsicle against Mari’s exposed hip, not caring about how she squeaked. “Neither have you.”

Instead of keeping a terrified expression, as Dia would have expected, Mari slowly started to smirk. Despite being pushed against the wall, she tried her best to push her chest out just a bit, as if to push her breasts into Dia’s gaze even more. She wiggled her hips, not caring about the coolness brushing against her. “I hope so,” she huffed, “but I’m more interested in what you’ve learned during college.”

Had it not been for her wink, Dia would have thought her nonsense to be some sort of half-assed segue into their studies. That wasn’t the case; if it were, Mari would have been smarter than to have crossed the plethora of thresholds which brought her to being pinned against the wall, having her own popsicle weaponized against her. In response to her insolence, Dia dragged the popsicle up Mari’s side, relishing in the sound that came out of her mouth. Whatever it was, it was definitely one of enjoyment, and such sounds Dia expected more of had it not been for Mari interrupting herself by pressing her lips against her captor’s.

Dia went to school primarily for the sake of her education, and was never a person who enjoyed the nightlife. Not even Kanan was able to get much out of her, except if it were for a more quiet activity. By the way Mari assertively slipped her tongue into Dia's mouth, Dia knew she definitely wasn't the same. 

Maybe businesswomen needed deft tongues, but this certainly wasn’t what Dia expected when she thought of that. Against her, Dia couldn’t fight back cleanly. The only thing more overpowering than Mari’s tongue’s domination was its flavor, recklessly tainted by artificial lemon. There was something more to it that she simply couldn’t taste, and in her frustration, she swiped the popsicle across her belly, taking in the huff that Mari gave her. She was glad that she had it. She was the one with the control, despite the sorry battle between their tongues claiming otherwise. After all, Mari’s hands were on Dia’s hips, and she still had a free hand, one that crept down the wall and hooked a thumb into the lower hem of Mari’s top.

Mari pulled away from the kiss and raised her arms up, a devious glint in her eye. This wasn’t a punishment or a threat to her. With how she paired it with that smirk, Mari seemed to be challenging her to take it off. Dia accepted the challenge and even raised the stakes by running the popsicle up between her exposed chest as she pulled her shirt off. It was a move so slick that she didn’t have time to pause and appreciate that Mari actually went braless and she didn’t need to worry about ruining her bra with her popsicle.

It was almost as if Mari had expected this.

As hard as her heart pounded seeing Mari’s bare chest, each as much of a handful as Mari herself, Dia had to keep her hand still. She was the one in charge, right? It would have been silly to be in charge and yet more shaky than the woman she was trying to dominate. But part of her was fixated on that chest, one that a Kurosawa could only envy. The only thing that could have made her more envious was how perky she could have been, but she had something that could help her with that. Taking a deep breath, Dia leaned in, pressing her lips against Mari’s jawline as she pressed the tip of the popsicle against one of Mari’s nipples.

“Ah! Dia!” Now the noises started leaking out, a fountain of which Dia didn’t want to dry up. Her kisses were fast and punctual, juxtaposed against a slow, almost languid orbit of her popsicle around Mari’s areolae. She could feel her nipple coming to attention, with what was once a slow roll now including a push against the hardening bud. It was growing ever-harder for her to pay attention to kissing down to the nape of her neck when she wanted to skip all that and collect her lemon-flavored reward. Either way, she was going to be rewarded with Mari squeezing at her rear end, which given their situation wasn’t unwelcomed. After a kiss directly underneath her jaw, right against Mari’s pulse point, she disregarded the methodical approach she wanted to keep for her kisses and went straight for Mari’s chest, now adorning the area she had tormented with her popsicle some warm relief with her tongue.

With her popsicle now removed from the spot that it once tormented, Dia traced shapes directly underneath Mari’s chest, feeling her lips pushed more against her bosom whenever she changed directions. As much as she loved the feeling of Mari bucking into her, it was difficult to clean her reward off, her tongue attempting to diligently clean her breast until the only flavor she could taste was the salty tang of Mari’s sweat. Even against her sweat-clad figure, and having her breast in her mouth, Dia primarily tasted that artificial lemon.

As soon as that flavor subsided Dia went to work, giving Mari an immediate juxtaposition between warmth against one breast and freezing coolness with the other. Whatever whines Mari had given her before only grew in volume and intensity, with her now including the occasional English or Italian curse. As she did, Dia, too, ratcheted up her intensity, now including a suck or bite whenever she felt like it; each time she did, Mari howled, a sound Dia grew to endear.

Dia pulled away to see her handiwork, and to center herself with Mari’s other breast, dripping with yellow and covered in goosebumps. Dia started by licking at the bottom of Mari’s chest, making sure to collect all of that artificial lemon flavor, and went upward, not caring that she would never taste lemon again without feeling horny herself. The popsicle was left to drag down Mari’s belly as Dia resumed giving her chest attention, her tongue eagerly lapping up whatever lemon taste she could so that she could taste the much more enticing flavors that it covered up.

Dropping Mari’s tank top, Dia brought her hands to Mari’s pants. Denim was far too thick for her next plan, and knowing Mari and how far they’ve gone there was no way that they’d stay on for the entirety of their session. Knowing this, Mari pulled her own hands away and helped Dia with the button, being much more helpful considering that she didn’t have a popsicle in one of her hands flush against her navel.

Once they were unbuttoned, Mari slowly wiggled her hips, pulling down just enough before letting them fall down her legs, exposing an oddly comfortable pair of panties. Not even Mari wanted to wear a thong on a day like today; instead, she wore a pair of panties which, after some fondling, felt like nylon and actually had the decency to cover most of her ass. They seemed extremely conservative, but at the same time, Mari still whined whenever she pressed the popsicle into her panties, almost as if they weren’t even there.

After cleaning off Mari’s other breast of lemon, she kissed back up, making sure to press her popsicle directly into the nylon that covered Mari’s sex. She indulged in her hissing, how she bit her lower lip to combat just how much she loved it. It was like even she knew that she’d be going a bit overboard with her feelings had she the ability to fully vocalize them. And Dia relished in it, pushing that popsicle even more into Mari’s panties with the glee that she finally had definite leverage over her. She didn’t think the day would have ever came, but all she needed was tenacity and a popsicle.

Despite the enjoyment of watching Mari squirm and shiver against her popsicle, Dia was not a fan of watching Mari biting her lip, doing nothing but trying to hold everything in. It seemed weird to her, and her only way of reversing it, or at least doing something about it, was to kiss her. She did, and surprisingly enough Mari gave her time to yield. She abused it by reversing their first kiss, making sure that her lips were tight against Mari’s as she drew calligraphy around every square centimeter of her mouth that she could find. The lemon felt faint, or at least something Dia could ignore, as she enjoyed the taste of Mari’s mouth, and she could tell by how eager Mari was to reciprocate that whatever flavors hung on Dia’s tongue were alluring to her. 

Mari moaned into Dia’s mouth, giving her the want that she had and thanking her by adjusting the angle of her popsicle against her panties. Instead of general pressure against her pussy, Dia directly targeted Mari’s clit, earning the response of Mari trying to kiss deeper while at the same time pressing her body into Dia’s. Dia, in turn, pushed the popsicle into her more, almost feeling Mari heating up at all of her contact.

It was, in a word, beautiful.

At least, it was, until the popsicle fell off the stick. Perhaps Dia should have seen this coming: Mari was horny as all hell and she was pressing something freezing into her. It made sense that it melted, but still, the disappointment that Dia had that she couldn’t further tease Mari with her popsicle was felt by both of them, and was accompanied with a whine that Dia was pressing a popsicle stick against Mari’s clit and accidentally slapped it as the popsicle fell off and landed on the ground in a lemony mess.

Yet, Dia kept slapping. It was less slapping as punishment and much more slapping like how she would tap a pencil eraser against a desk whenever she found a question that was difficult on a test. Even though most of her tests were easy, this one was definitely not. She had lost her leverage and now she had a horny and very needy Mari on her hands, who could have at any moment taken every piece of clothes off both of them and rode her like she was jockeying at the Olympics. All this did was bide her a bit of time, something which slowly decreased with each smack as Mari grew more accustomed to being fondled by a stick.

It was, however, just enough time for Dia to realize the only way to go was to take off Mari’s panties. She never stopped tapping the stick against her crotch even as she pulled her panties down, marveling at how she kept herself shaven even though there was no chance in hell anyone should have been seeing this out in the open. Well, it was summer, and hair did capture heat; Dia kept that in mind, almost ready to consider waxing for once in her life. Even as her folds were exposed in all their glistening glory did Dia not stop smacking her with her popsicle stick. 

It was enough for Mari to pull away and grab Dia’s wrist downstairs, though, and Mari shook Dia’s hand until the popsicle stick was on the ground, too. Now that Dia’s hand was free from everything, Mari slowly sunk that hand into her folds, sinking two of her fingers into her sex with a heated moan. Dia didn’t need another hint. Hell, if Mari was doing this with Ruby (gods forbid, in Dia’s eyes; maybe someone innocent like Hanamaru instead would be a better example), she wouldn’t need a hint either. It was less a hint and more a solution, and Dia once more took charge by thrusting her fingers into Mari’s core, enjoying the squelching sounds and how her pussy clung tightly to her with each thrust.

Mari began riding, her hips bucking in instinctive circles to aid her with her finger-fucking. At times, it seemed like she was ready to request another finger be shoved in, but the throes of her pleasure didn’t seem to mind whether two or three were inside of her. To be safe, Dia pushed the third one in, the overwhelming fluids leaking from her folds being the necessary lubricant for her to pull off such a stunt. They fit very snugly, but by how Mari was less moaning and more screaming with joy, Dia was certain that she loved it. In fact, she loved it so much that she was moving her hips even faster against her fingers.

“Gods! Dia!  _ You feel so good _ !” Dia was happy that her English classes were coming in handy, but most of the Italian that she let out was definitely lost on her. It wasn’t like it was mostly Italian; only the most severe feelings were reserved for that. It was like Mari wanted Dia to know just how much and just how excited she was. She disregarded languages for her; the only language they needed to know was fucking, and by the gods was Dia speaking it fluently on her first day.

Despite how much Mari talked, Dia felt weird to respond. She wasn’t going to be dirty talking her; it felt almost weird trying to insult her despite how much she was enjoying herself, even with how shameless it felt. And besides, each moment speaking was one that she could have been spending relishing Mari’s body. Instead of giving weird dirty talk, Dia was much more comfortable continuing to litter Mari’s body with kisses, and her lips immediately found purchase against Mari’s collarbone.

That was enough to get Mari whining again, and the more Dia pushed her fingers inside her, the more she attempted to push harder; it was not working that well. Her hand felt like it was going to cramp with each thrust, and the tightness of Mari’s fingers constricting her only made her cramps feel like they were more inevitable and painful. This wasn’t going to work unless there was something extra, a way she could maybe rub her clit or something…

As if Mari had read her mind, she brought her hand to her clit and started rubbing ferociously. Between the chaotic thrusts of her hips and her loud moans, it was very clear that no matter how much Dia wanted her to cum, Mari wanted it more. Exasperated shifts between languages which made no sense passed through her lips, almost desperate in trying to figure out new ways to say that she loved being fucked by Dia’s hand. With each rub and slap Mari gave herself, Dia felt her fingers trying to stay intact; Mari seriously wouldn’t quit, and her squeezes were more than vice grips. At any moment, Mari was going to explode.

It didn’t take that much longer for Mari to cum, staining Dia’s hand with copious amounts of her fluids. She wanted to straighten herself, but couldn’t with how her legs quivered. Throwing her head back was out of the equation, too, given how she was pressed up against a wall. Dia pulled her hand out of Mari’s folds, dripping with her lewd essence. She couldn’t help herself to a bit of it; any form of liquid refreshment would have sufficed, and there was no way that she would let any drop melt off her fingers. She rather carelessly put her fingers in her mouth, expecting that Mari wouldn’t be any the wiser in her post-orgasm mind.

“ _ Naughty naughty, Dia! _ ”

It took more than one orgasm to bring a woman like Ohara Mari down, Dia learned immediately as she proceeded to almost choke on her fingers. That was the last thing she wanted to hear, and she had actually enjoyed the sweet time she spent cleaning off Mari’s fingers of her juices. Part of her wanted to keep going, to place her hand back down there or, hell, even get down on her knees so that she could take in more of that flavor, but it seemed as though Mari was one step ahead of her, in a slightly incorrect direction.

Somehow, in her post-orgasm state, Mari was able to sneak behind Dia and grope her, as if it were old times. As opposed to letting out a shocked scream at her, from just being appalled at her more teasing nature, she almost wanted to fall into Mari’s hands and let her massage her chest. After a few moments, though, that idea was quickly scrapped and she kept her harder demeanor. “Mari-san! What are you doing?”

“I thought Dia was getting  _ lonely _ without being touched!”

Whatever the hell that meant. She wasn’t lonely at home, with her little sister and her best friend, and she wasn’t lonely here, fucking the sole employee at the stand. But, at the same time, Dia understood what she was saying: she was giving everything while Mari received, and it wasn’t in Mari’s nature to take. She was rich; if she wanted to only receive, she would have found a way to put money into it. Mari was much more a giver, one who gave Dia a hard time a lot but now one who wanted to give just as much pleasure as she felt moments before.

As if Dia was in any position to disagree. Her sundress hid her lust quite well, a lot better than something like a skirt would have, or heaven forbid a pair of shorts. She didn’t even want to see what her underwear looked like, or think about the stain that was formed in them. Mari teasing her made everything worse, because she was able to feel that naughtiness coursing through her, one which was made much more tempting by how Mari’s lips brushed against her earlobe.

“Don’t you feel  _ hot _ in that dress?” Mari cooed in Dia’s ear, hands snaking from her breast to her shoulders.

Before Dia had a chance to respond, she felt the warm summer air spread downwards, and only as she watched Mari’s hands return to her bust did she see that her sundress was now pooled at her ankles, leaving her naked except for her own lingerie. Hell, she was probably a bit less summer-ready than Mari, having chosen to wear cotton and a bra. Considering she could feel Mari’s fingers against her back, she knew that would be gone before she knew it, too.

And it was. Predictably, Mari unclipped her bra before returning to her standard skinship. As much as Dia wanted to scream that she was being perverted and shameless, and how she should have been working, she couldn’t help but look at the molten popsicle on the ground in front of her. She was one to talk about being a pervert, but even then she definitely couldn’t have been as horny as Mari was when she was teasing her with a popsicle.

At least, that was what she thought before Mari sunk the hand which once danced against her back between her legs. Mari’s fingers felt warm against her back but felt quite a bit cooler against her legs, especially as she felt teasing fingers pressing up and down her clothed slit. Dia hissed at the sparks coursing up her spine, her legs shaking slightly from her teases. Okay, maybe she was a bit hornier than she gave herself credit for.

“ _ You’re so wet! _ ” Dia didn’t know what  _ wet _ meant in Mari’s context but it was pretty obvious once she felt those digits digging into her. Her panties were definitely wicked as much as they could be, soft squelches always present in each push she gave. Mari definitely could have been a slang teacher; it would be yet another class in a list where Dia wouldn’t mind staying after to learn more, even though it was the only one she’d do it for the sake of the teacher. Dia’s hips buckled down, pressing into Mari’s teasing fingers, only for her to pull away. Dia whined at the sudden lack of stimulation.

“Always the silent type, aren’t you, Dia?”

Dia huffed with each breathy exhale. She really wasn’t going to make her beg for this kind of thing, right? She really didn’t think it was a good idea to have her hostage, on a hot day, where people could have come around to the popsicle stand to cool off? Even if the only thing hotter than the weather was the woman trying to tease her, and that Chika, You, Mari, and herself were all idiots for standing out in the heat, she was concerned that someone would have seen this scene, or maybe someone already had.

“Aren’t you thirsty from all this heat?” Dia asked, almost trying to change the conversation. “It really is hot out here, and the popsicle you were having, well…”

“ _ Good idea _ !” Mari chirped loudly, causing Dia to recoil out of her grasp. In her disorientation Mari took the upper hand and brought her back against the wall, leaving Dia with nowhere to go. Mari grabbed her hips and went downward, making sure to press the occasional languid kiss down her frame before tugging on Dia’s panties. Dia looked down in shock as she felt her panties sliding down her legs, only to be met with a dark, lustful gaze directed at her.

“I’m gonna have a drink,” Mari announced, with a voice much more appropriate for lovemaking. If anything, Dia was glad that being unkempt down there didn’t deter her from her drink.

Dia leaned into the wall as she felt Mari’s tongue pressing against her sex, immediately lashing wherever she could as if she were making her territory. As if Dia could mind; Mari had brought all of that enthusiasm from her first kiss into eating her out, taking whatever juices she could find on her swollen folds for herself. If she were anywhere as good with her mouth in talking as she was with sex, Mari could have been a CEO for some big company.

Her tongue’s thrusts grew more violent whenever she neared Dia’s clit, almost as if her tongue did that thing she did with the letter r when she was speaking Italian with her family. Whatever the fuck she was doing down there, it felt like a fleshy vibrator was strapped onto her clit and she couldn’t help but let out a groan and to grab Mari by the hair. There was no way that she wasn’t keeping her there, especially after that. She was sold on her coming over  _ whenever _ if she was going to do that.

Dia’s hips bucked once more, this time into Mari’s face. Her buck became another, and soon she found herself riding her face, much to her enjoyment. Mari, too, gave her own moans of appreciation which reverberated throughout her body and left her shaking even more. It was as if whatever Mari was doing made her hornier, something she reflected by thrusting her hips downward and into her face with more force. She needed it, and she needed it badly. There was no way that Mari could make this feel any better.

Once more, Dia was proven incorrect: she wasn’t even filled with fingers yet, and the moment two fingertips danced against her entrance, Dia threw her head back and gave her most powerful moan yet. Another attempted thrust downward, and she could feel her thighs growing weaker, combined with those fingers barely penetrating her. Her eyes rolled back, hoping that Mari could take charge as she let the throes of her lust control her more than her reasoning.

Once those fingers were inside her, Dia wondered how she stayed upright. She felt far too good to be able to manage, and she was pressing back into the wall as much as she could. The sexual pleasure was almost devastating to her, wanting more wanton heat even in this unbearable weather. It had spread throughout her body, with red flushes visibly forming on her skin. Her chest, even, untouched, felt like her personal namesake, with the humidity in the air enough to make her croon. She was a firecracker with her fuse lit and she knew that at any moment she was going to blow.

Mari knew that, too. She knew it so well that she swapped her hand with her mouth, her tongue now dancing against her entrance as her fingers kept slapping her clit. She could hear Mari asking if she was going to cum, but she ignored it; not because she wanted to be rude, but because she couldn’t hear it that well over the ringing in her ears.

Then, Mari slapped her clit hard. The next thing that she remembered was she was sitting on the ground right next to Mari, her face soaked in some sort of fluid that she didn’t mind swiping off her face with her fingers. As she slurped it down, she let out moans of endearment followed by coos of how delicious it was. Dia was curious, but before she could ask, Mari answered her questions for her.

“I didn’t think you’d squirt that powerfully, Dia!”   
  
“Squirt?” Dia asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mari explained, trying to keep Dia calm despite the fact that she was realizing how shameless the actions that happened before were. Being stark naked in public outside, with her clothes and Mari’s all flung around the area, not necessarily helping set a pretty scene. Dia scrambled to pick up her clothes and put them on, her face as red as both her bra and her sundress.

“That was amazing!” Mari added, not caring about Dia’s state of panic despite her similar state of undress. “I should really give you my business card!”

“Mari-san, I  _ know _ your phone number!” Dia retorted, stepping out of the stand. She had been there for  _ far _ too long. “Anyway, I came here to get some ice cream. Ruby-chan let Hanamaru-san stay at our place because of the heat and they were complaining about how hot it was outside and--”   


“Say no more!” Mari responded, opening a freezer behind her and pulling out boxes of mikan pops, along with several boxes of frozen matcha pudding. This was Kurosawa ice cream heaven, and Mari had been kind enough to give it to her for free.

“All of it?” Dia asked. “What about your business, and your margins, and your--”

“ _ Relax _ , Dia,” Mari laughed, “I’ll pay it for you. Don’t worry. You’ve been here for long enough and I didn’t get you something, so it’s on me, okay?”

“I, uh…” Dia stumbled over her words. It was a very kind gesture, and she wasn’t going to deny free stuff, especially after some time at college showed how necessary such a word was, but she thought that Mari really needed to learn some better business sense.

“Come on, Dia! They’re melting! Why would you give Ruby and Hanamaru melted popsicles?”

That appeal hit too close to home, as Dia bowed, taking everything off of Mari’s hands, and headed home. She was right. She had spent enough time at this place already and she knew that if she stayed out there, all the ice cream in her hands was going to melt. She had no choice in the matter, and if Mari was going to let her take them, then she had every right to blow this popsicle stand.

She just hoped that Ruby and Hanamaru didn’t ask what took her so long.

**Author's Note:**

> No discord server advertisement. That's dead at this point and I'll probably just let it die out. That being said, I hope you enjoyed reading this!


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